


Can't Escape My Nightmares

by WonderingsAndMusings



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: GTA AU, OT6 implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderingsAndMusings/pseuds/WonderingsAndMusings
Summary: Nightmares are a rarity for Ryan now.  But when a heist goes sideways, memories bubble to the surface.





	Can't Escape My Nightmares

Ryan watched from behind the couch as the front door was kicked in by men, men shouting, shouting for his mom and dad. He stayed silent but one of them must have seen his mop of sandy blonde hair because he was walking right toward him. He wanted to make himself small, the way he did when dad came home with his loud friends or when mommy was asleep on the couch with that thing in her arm. The heavy boot falls hit the floor. Clunk, Clunk, Clunk.

Ryan woke with a start, shooting up in bed, to the sound of someone’s knuckles rapping on the door. 

“Hey Ry? Are you okay?” The voice was quite but unmistakable.

“Yeah. Yeah Gav. I’m all right. Just,” he sighed. He wasn’t accustomed to his crew asking questions. He was the Vagabond, not some scared kid, “a weird dream, I guess,”

“Okay, well, if you need anything I’m right next door.”

Ryan laid back down but stayed awake, listening for the quiet, but not silent, footfalls and the sound of a door opening and closing. He flipped over his phone to check the time, 2:41am. Gavin was probably just on his way to bed. 

He hadn’t had a nightmare in years. But yesterdays heist had gone wrong. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the penthouse they were robbing. It was only supposed to send a message, ‘Don’t fuck with the Fakes.’ The rival gang leader was getting a little to large, encroaching a little too much. They weren’t even going to steal anything, just go in and smash the place up. But when they got there, they weren’t alone. Ryan was the first to see, two feet scrambling under a purple and blue butterfly comforter.

He had done the right thing, called for Geoff (using his codename of course) and they had called the job off. The damage had been done, just not the damage they had intended.

Growing up in the system had made him who he was today, and this little girl wasn’t going to be left alone ever again. Ryan tried to justify in his mind on the ride home, they had to do it, it was part of the business, they hadn’t meant for anyone to be there. But he couldn’t help feeling guilty. He never felt guilty for what they did, the stealing the killing, it helped him feel alive. But looking at this shaking lump he couldn’t help but see himself, silent and small, hiding behind a couch.

Ryan didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, his mind swimming with memories he hadn’t thought about in years. He thought about taking a shower, or playing video games, or going for a drive, anything to get his mind off police officers and butterfly blankets. He eventually settled on going for a walk around town.

Los Santos could be dangerous at the best of times, but at 3:30 in the morning it could be downright suicidal to take a casual stroll through the streets. That is, if you aren’t one of the most well known criminals in the city. But Ryan didn’t want to be the Vagabond, didn’t want the protection of it, didn’t want those would-bed trying to pick a fight. So instead he dressed in the most casual clothes he could find, pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, and made sure his pistol was concealed but easy to reach.

The mist of an early summer rain was starting to fall as he took his first couple steps down the road. ‘Theres something poetic about the rain,’ he thought, ‘cleaning my mind and soul or whatever.’ He laughed to himself at the thought. Geoff would laugh at him too, Ryan had never been one for poetry but Geoff seemed to love the stuff. Ryan could almost find meaning in the words when they came from Geoff’s lips. And Geoff, Geoff would take any opportunity to share some of his favorites. To Geoff, poetry was as close as he could get to prayer, and Ryan would happily convert if it meant hearing Geoff preach daily.

Ryan heard loud footfalls following him down the sidewalk. No one would have been stupid enough to follow him if he had looked like the notorious criminal, but he didn’t. He looked like Ryan. When the footsteps got closer he turned around, ready to grab the person following him and teach them a very painful lesson.

“Oh! Ryan! It’s me!” The familiar shout of an annoying British kid. “I heard your door open and shut and I mean, I couldn’t sleep, so I just, I uh, you know I just, I decided maybe you could use some company,” his stammered explanation came tumbling from his lips before Ryan could shush him.

“I appreciate it Gav, but I’m just going for a short walk.”

“I’ll walk with you,” was the cheery reply. Ryan wasn’t exactly in a cheery mood, but having Gavin around always seemed to pull him out of any funk he found himself in. And it wouldn’t be bad to have a second person with him on the streets.

They walked in silence for close to an hour and a half, making a large loop back to the entrance of the penthouse they all lived in. The rain had stopped fairly early on, but Ryan could almost still feel the drops on his face. While they didn’t run into any trouble, they passed a few people who trouble had definitely found. It wasn’t hard in Los Santos to see trouble around every corner, and often times they were two of the people bringing that trouble.

In the elevator, Gavin reached over and took Ryan’s hand in his own. “Are you sure you’re doing okay, Ry? The job, it wasn’t what we expected. The kid…”

“The kid will be all right,” Ryan cut him off, pulling Gavin so they were face to face, “and I will be all right too. I promise.”

The elevator doors dinged and they stepped out into the living room. Light was starting to filter in through the windows, it was no where near sunrise but the first rays were flitting through the darkness.

Being in a relationship with the people you work with was never easy, never going to be easy, but somehow Fake AH had made it work all these years. It was rarely tenderness and love, in their line of work showing affection (even for the people you love) could be disastrous. But here, in the early morning, with most of the world asleep Ryan let himself be tender. He pulled Gavin’s hand to his lips, kissed each fingertip, then palm, then wrist. Gavin pressed his body close to Ryan, feeling the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest and listening to the beating of Ryan’s heart.

They stayed close, eventually curling up on the couch together while the morning rays flitted in thought the large window. Sleep never quite found Ryan again, but a gentle feeling of content settled over him as he listened to Gavin’s snores.


End file.
